Propaganda
by annamorphos
Summary: Lucifer discusses the realities and truth of his existence. **This was written for a Creative Writing project**


_**Author's Note: This is something I wrote for a Creative Writing project. Please no reproduction of this without my permission. Thanks!**_

Propaganda

_Isaiah 14:12 - How art thou fallen from heaven, O Lucifer, son of the morning! [how] art thou cut down to the ground, which didst weaken the nations!_

* * *

"Why are you here today, Luke?" Paul asked, his attention focused on the pad of paper beneath his pen. When he chanced a glimpse at me, I took notice of the small, buds of sweat protruding from his receding hairline, and I sighed heavily. Humans were naturally squeamish around me, and in spite of how much time we had spent together, Paul was no exception. He fidgeted slightly under my keen eye and nervously added, "What do you hope to accomplish through this interview?"

I offered him a brief reprieve by gazing around the sparsely populated restaurant. There was a tawdry, little tart who kept dancing around the male-infested tables, and I watched as her dignity spilled out of her revealing blouse. I could almost feel her feminine sheath pulsating in response to the abundance of testosterone in the general vicinity. Her name tag said "Madeline," but her actions said "Nefarious."

"Luke?" Paul reclaimed my attention as the panting quim thrust the last of her integrity in a married man's face, and I averted my eyes. "Did you hear me?"

"Of course I did," I responded, finding his assumption that my hearing was anything less than perfect insulting. "I am here because I wish to shed light on the propaganda that has corrupted the minds of humanity. But, more importantly, I am tired of being alone with this knowledge."

"Alone? But, you're Lucifer. What about those who serve you?" Paul interjected while he fumbled with the tape recorder he had brought with him. "What about your legion of demons? The angels who fell with you?"

I laughed derisively, leveling my gaze in his direction. The propaganda was seeded deep within his mind. It was practically spilling from his eyes. "There are no others."

Paul raised his head, frowning in confusion, and I took a moment to appraise him. Since I had met him six years ago, he had aged quite a bit. At forty-six, his skin was beginning to head south, his once-clear, blue eyes had become a cloudy gray, and his posture was sloven and hunched. He could easily pass for a man in his sixties.

His appearance hardly surprised me, for it was a near mirror image of my own. The Creator had never meant for supernatural creatures and humans to exist on the same plane. We, the angels, had been created from the Lord himself, while Man had been pulled from the muck. The purity of my essence, my very presence caused the deterioration of human bodies. It was unfortunate considering the only way I could take physical form was to possess another. I looked at my hands and noted with deep satisfaction that the wrinkles had increased.

"No. I was raised Catholic, Luke." Paul put his pen down, laced his fingers beneath his chin and looked at me with as much smugness as he was capable of producing. "One third of the angels in Heaven sided with you, so they were, therefore, cast out."

"Do you honestly believe that your simple, forty-six years is remotely similar to the countless ages that I have beneath my wings?" Although I had become quite at home with the audacity and arrogance of humans, it was still disconcerting. While Paul struggled to keep him bold composure, I continued with my story. "The idea that one-third of Heaven fell is an exaggeration, perpetrated by _Him_."

"You mean God?" Paul asked, returning to his pen and paper. "He exaggerated your fall from Heaven?"

"Greatly so," I replied, and my thoughts retreated to that moment, when I had stood upon the precipice of the two realities—Heaven and Earth. I felt a familiar tug within me, a longing for what once was, but it was immediately extinguished by my eternal resentment. "You see, Paul, one-third of Heaven did not fall—one of three angels did."

"One of three angels." He transcribed me word-for-word before looking up. "Who were the others?"

"Michael, one of archangels, and Gabriel, whom you know as the 'Angel of Death'," I explained. "We were the first three angels He created. We were deemed His most precious and trusted confidantes, and so, we were gifted with Sight—the ability to see the future of mankind."

Paul raised his eyebrows. "Wow. That was very generous."

"I suppose," I answered, shrugging. Although Sight had brought my brothers and me closer to Him, it was one of the contributing factors to my fall. Thinking back, I wondered if I would have prevented all of this had I simply turned it down. "It was not infallible, though. We were able to see the outcome of Man's decisions, but we could not interfere. That was where we differed from Him. Only he could intercede and prevent our visions from coming to fruition."

"So what happened?" Paul was intrigued by my story. It was evident in his quickened pulse and increased breathing. "What led to The Fall?"

"My brothers… well, my former brothers and I foretold a nuclear holocaust." As the words slipped out of my mouth, I realized my mistake. Paul's expression became panic stricken, and the sweat on his brow increased. "Do not fear, Paul. You have nothing to worry about."

"So there's not going to be a nuclear holocaust?" His pulse was still hammering like a drum, and it was starting to annoy me. "You said you lost the Sight, so how can you know for sure?"

I groaned and pinched the bridge of my nose. The one aspect of human bodies that I detested was the headaches. When I had fallen, my perfect, angelic form had been marred by the one I had once served. He had bent and twisted my body to the point that I was a mere shadow of my former glory. More importantly, I was susceptible to human afflictions. To be honest, I could deal with the severe isolation, the way humans instinctively fled from my very presence, and the lack of my former strength, but these headaches were unbearable. Thankfully, Paul stopped his incessant, panicky tirade, and I was able to quite my mind enough to continue.

"We approached Him with what we had observed, but his reaction was not what we had anticipated," I explained, refusing to look at Paul. I could still feel the shudder than had passed through me when I had stood before The Throne. His eyes had fallen on me as I had voiced my observation, but I had been so blinded by my love to see what was happening behind His eyes. "He did not agree with our recommendation to remove all dangerous minerals from the Earth."

"You mean the nuclear materials? We need those," Paul insisted, the light of panic still burning within his eyes. I had not answered his question regarding the threat of nuclear war, and frankly, I was not entirely sure I would. "Humans need electricity to survive."

I waved away his ridiculous observation. "No. You do not. Your species has existed without it. In fact, civilization has thrived without it."

His tightly pressed lips told me that he desperately wanted to argue his point, but he did not. Instead, he leaned forward and asked his inevitable question. "So… is there going to be nuclear war?"

I narrowed my eyes and observed Paul for a moment. With his lifestyle—a borderline alcoholic and one pack away from becoming a chain smoker—he was almost certain to die earlier than his scheduled time. The tips of my mouth threatened to turn upward, but I redirected my thoughts and prevented the appearance of a smile.

"There will be no nuclear holocaust," I responded, "in your lifetime."

Unsurprisingly, my response quelled his fear, and he was able to return to his normal, albeit annoyingly inquisitive self. Like the majority of humanity, Paul's only concern was for his own future. He had no desire to know that his great-grandchildren would suffer, and it appeared to ease his nerves. _Selfishness has such a calming effect on humans.  
_  
"So what happened after you received the vision?"

"He grew angry when I insisted that the vision was unchanging," I said. "At first, Gabriel and Michael were on my side. After all, we had all shared in the same vision. However, as He began to grow more annoyed, their decision began to waver. They started to wonder if the vision would change based on how Earth's minerals reacted to the course of time."

My eyes found the table as I recalled the defining moment of my life.

* * *

_ "Perhaps," Michael said in a thoughtful way. The iridescence of his wings twinkled under the Lord's light, "we are merely seeing the outcome of this world as it currently stands. It will undoubtedly have changed by the time humans are ready to exist. We must have misinterpreted Father's will."_

_"I agree, Brother," Gabriel answered, bowing reverently before The Throne. "We must pause and observe the course of things. We must obey Father's will."_

_"Forgive me, my brothers, Father," I said while shaking my head, "but this is unchanging. In your divine wisdom, we have been granted your Sight. You do not misinterpret, Father. We have seen your will. I beseech you. Remove these potential hazards, so that mankind may endure—"_

_I stopped speaking as a surge of energy paralyzed my entire spirit, cut through my soul and blinded me. After living in Father's Light for my entire existence, I was horrified to find that I had been plunged into perpetual night. I reached out into the black abyss, and as I screamed into the echoing nothing before me, the shadows began to take shape. The Cimmerian shade peeled away, and the image of Earth's surface came into focus._

_I stood and watched as a bright, shining star spiraled through the open sky, in a brilliant display of light, flames, and speed. When it hit the earth, it was as if the finger of God had touched the world. A white-hot flash swallowed every defining feature of my surroundings, blotting them out with a searing heat. What followed was a cacophonous, violent explosion. The most magnificent I had ever witnessed, second only to the creation of the universe. Forests were ripped from their rightful places, large bodies of water were vaporized, animals were extinguished, and the sky became a deep, malevolent red. A plumage of smoke and ash lifted high into the air, and the ample winds carried it in multiple directions. What was this fallen object that had caused such devastation and destruction?_

_As I moved closer, I gaped at what lay at the center of the massive crater. It was not a star that had fallen, but an angel. His trembling body was curled inward, and his wings were wrapped tightly around him. As I observed his familiar bits of armor and the color of his wings, his plumage began to pull back, revealing the creature beneath them. I gasped in horror as the angel rolled onto his back, revealing his face—my face._

_I blinked and the vision drifted away, returning me to Heaven. Very slowly, I turned my eyes to Father, a piercing dread flowing throughout me. "Father? Why have you forsaken me?"_


End file.
